The Pursuit of Piracy
by Lilianne Lei
Summary: Sequel to A Tale to Tell - DMC: One year has passed since Jack was executed and things are changing in Port Royal. Forced to readapt to life in the British town after her escapade on the Pearl, Rachelle Swann suddenly finds herself thrust into a new adventure which may very well change her life forever as she encounters the fearsome captain of the Flying Dutchman.
1. Chapter 1

**Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome! Welcome to readers both familiar and unfamiliar with my humble works. This is the sequel to my story **_**A Tale to Tell**_** and, as it usually is with sequels, I recommend reading my take on Curse of the Black Pearl before commencing with this work. However, each work can stand alone (as can each POTC movie), should anyone be so inclined.**

**Chapter One**

_ Knock, knock, knock._ "Open up by order of the Royal Navy!"

I pulled open the door with a smile. "Good morning, gentlemen." I greeted the soldiers. "How are you this fine morning?"

"We're looking for Mr. James Norrington." Gillette spoke loudly, ignoring my greeting. "Lord Beckett has issued a warrant for his arrest. May we search your estate?"

Furrowing my brow, I queried, "On what charges? Mr. Norrington just recently resigned from your ranks, as I'm sure you recall. I hardly think he is the sort to turn so quickly against the King."

"The charge is conspiring to set free a man convicted of crimes against the Crown and Empire and condemned to death, for which the punishment is also death."

"So I see," I sighed, keeping my expression expertly schooled. "I do wish I could be of more assistance, sir, but I must prepare myself for my sister's wedding this afternoon."

"Miss Swann, we have reason to believe that Norrington may be hiding here as the warrant for his arrest was issued alongside those for Ms. Elizabeth Swann and Mr. William Turner."

"Beg pardon?" I choked, feeling suddenly ill. "Will and Elizabeth have been arrested as well?"

"I apologize, miss. I've been told their wedding has been cancelled in light of their arrests."

Dropping all facades, I took a hold of the doorframe, feeling my knees beginning to tremble. "Miss Swann, are you alright?" Gillette inquired.

"No, I… I feel faint." I stammered. "Excuse me, sir."

Stumbling backwards, I closed the door without so much as a send-off to the soldiers and staggered to the sofa. "J—James!" I called before collapsing on the cushions.

"What is it?" my suitor questioned, rushing in from the dining room where he had been overseeing the preparations for lunch.

"You… Elizabeth… Will… Under arrest… Conspiring… Pirate…" I stuttered.

"Breath, Rachelle, what's happened? What did the soldiers want?"

"They're searching for _you_…" I spluttered. "Will… and Elizabeth… they've… already been arrested."

"For what?" he asked, although it looked as though he already knew the answer.

"Gillette, he said it was for conspiring to set free a pirate. For which the punishment is—"

"Death." James completed with a grim look on his face.

I broke down into tears, something I had not done for months. He lifted my chin and said, "I'm not going to be killed, Rachelle. I'm going to flee. And you're coming with me."

"What? James… I can't. Think of Governor Swann—we cannot force him to lose both daughters in one day."

"Please, Rachelle, come with me. We can start over, away from all this frivolity. We'll have a new life without the burdens of our past."

"Where could we go? Every English town will be on the lookout for you."

"Tortuga."

"No! James, I can't go back there."

"That's the only place where I can be safe." he protested. "Please, come with me, Rachelle. I would not take you there unless it was absolutely necessary."

"James, if we are to have a new start, mine cannot be in Tortuga. That is my childhood home and every millimeter of that place oozes memories of my past."

"But it's a start. We can sail the seas, become merchants with the ship and crew we can obtain in Tortuga."

"Yes, alright." I consented hesitantly. "You'll leave tonight, but I must see my sister one last time before she is put to death. I will find you."

* * *

"Elizabeth!" I cried, spotting my sister as I descended into the depths of the prison.

"Rachelle," she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard the news from the soldiers searching for James—"  
"James! He hasn't been arrested, has he?"

Shaking my head, I replied, "Not that I know of. I believe he's already left Port Royal." I added, eyeing the prison guard warily. "Where's Will?"

"Thank goodness. Beckett's sent him off on a mission. Supposedly, if he succeeds, we'll be pardoned."

"Elizabeth, what's happened? What's what did the three of you do that got you in so much trouble with the law?" I asked, glancing at the pirates who were trying to lure her over from the adjoining cell.

My sister remained silent for a moment before replying, "We tried saving Jack."

I felt as though all the oxygen had been sucked from the air. "J-Jack?" I stammered. "Jack is… alive?"

Elizabeth hesitated before shaking her head regrettably. "Jack's gone. And he's never coming back."

As she spoke, I felt my heart die just as it had twelve months ago. I should have known not to allow hope to momentarily creep into my soul. Although it appeared as though I was soon to be engaged, my heart still beat for that witty pirate who'd first loved me.

Just then, Governor Swann approached with a soldier, who unlocked the door to Elizabeth's cell. "Come quickly." he ordered. "You as well, Rachelle. They'll blame you for her escape."

"Where are you going?" the imprisoned men from the adjoining cells crowed after us, disappointed that we were leaving.

"You've got to tell me what's happening!" Elizabeth exclaimed as her father led us out of the jail.

"Our name still has some standing with the king. I've arranged passage to England…" his words faded as I trailed behind with a sudden jerk.

"What—?" I gasped, glancing down to see what my dress had caught on.

One of the pirates had clutched onto the flowing fabric and refused to release his grip. "I just want a little love," he croaked. "Do you know how lonely it is in here?"

"Yes," I frowned, attempting to pull my dress from his bony grip, but to no avail.

With a frustrated growl, I pulled a sword from the wall and held the blade to his wrists. "Release me," I seethed. "Or, if you're lucky, I let you get away missing only your hand."

Sensing the truth in my words, the man wisely slinked away, allowing me to stride hurriedly after my adoptive family.

"Even if Will succeeds, do not ask me to endure the sight of my daughters walking to the gallows. Do not! Perhaps I can ensure a fair trial for Will if he returns." the governor was saying when I caught up.

"A fair trial for Will ends in a hanging." Elizabeth spat.

"Then there is nothing left for you here."

We were shoved into the carriage, which my adoptive father drove to the shipyard. Upon our arrival, Governor Swann stepped away from the carriage to speak with the captain, but Elizabeth and I slipped out the opposite side and ran back towards the port.

"I'm going to find Beckett. I want those Letters of Marque he spoke of." my sister told me. "You must go in search of Will. Beckett send him in search of the Black Pearl. I will follow as soon as I can."

I nodded, pulling her into a deep embrace. "Be careful." I murmured.

"You too, Rachelle. Take care of yourself."

With that, we parted ways. As Elizabeth ran off to find the _gracious_ Lord Beckett, I turned back towards the harbor and snuck aboard a merchant ship that looked ready to depart from the port. I abandoned my dress for breeches and a shirt before I could be spotted, wondering how I'd make it to Tortuga to meet James _and_ manage to search for—and find—Will. Maybe I'd get lucky and dear William would be on that wretched island.

Little did I know that it would be a long adventure before I ever set eyes on the pirate-infested port of Tortuga.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

A shuddering crash halted the ship's progress as we attempted to sail through a ragged storm. Slowly, alarm replaced confusion as the crew, one by one, realized we were being attacked—by something large, fierce, and mythical. Large tentacles crept out of the sea plucking men from the deck and the riggings, even seizing men that ran about below decks, attempting to set off a cannon or two in a desperate attempt to fight back.

Stationed in the riggings, at the time, I scrambled fervently towards the crow's nest, dodging flying debris as I loosed ropes and swung over the chaos below. Just as I stretched out an arm, reaching to grasp a firm hold, I was flung away, the rope burning my hand and forcing me to let go. Screaming, I was thrashed about by the slimy tentacle curled around my ankle. Knowing my fate, I prayed the legendary creature would kill me quickly, rather than forcing me to suffer death as slowly and torturously as many of my crew mates seemed to be dying.

With a whooshing crash, the Kraken pulled me underwater and, for a moment that seemed to stand still, I beheld a vision of its massive, allegedly-mythical bulk, foraging tentacles, and beast-like teeth. I stared, thinking our locked gazes to be an oxygen-deprived hallucination, and hardly noticed that the ironclad grip on my calf had been relieved until I began to slowly sink towards the ocean floor. In a panic, I dashed for the surface, breaking through and eagerly gasping for breath.

A storm rattled the battered skeleton of the ship around in the water until it came to a crashing halt upon meeting a sandbar hull first. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed as the tempest raged on. I pushed myself towards the wreckage, knowing all too well the consequences of remaining in the thrashing waves for much longer. Heaving myself onto the deck, I stumbled exhaustedly towards the Captain's Quarters for shelter and managed a short rest.

A light, bobbing to and fro as if from someone's lantern, flickered weakly in the fierce winds. I heard a voice shouting, muffled by the wall and stifled by the storm, so I crept slowly to investigate. Sure enough, a man stood towards the bow, investigating for survivors.

Suddenly, a horde of men crawled on deck, emerging from the raging sea with mutilated features to match. The man with the lantern, which had crashed to the deck and extinguished, tried to fend off the fish men with his sword lit aflame, but was struck a blow to the head. Alarmed, I started to rush to his aid when I heard a thump accompanied by a sharp pain erupting through my skull. I was vaguely aware of a man with a hammerhead shark for a head standing behind me before my vision speckled black and I lost consciousness.

When I awoke, the storm had ceased, curling away to reveal a shimmering night sky. But my attention was hardly stolen away by the stars. The fish men who had invaded the ship after the attack stood glaring about as the hammerhead man announced to the captain, "Six men still alive, the rest have moved on."

My gaze was drawn to an imposingly tall man whose beard matched the tentacles of the Kraken and whose left hand had been replaced by an enlarged lobster claw. Instantly I knew I was kneeling before, and a prisoner of, Davy Jones- Captain of the Flying Dutchman.

He strode down the line before peering at one sailor. "Do you fear death?" he barked. "Do you fear that dark abyss?" The sailor nodded fearfully. "All your deeds laid bare, all your sins punished? I can offer an escape."

"Don't listen to him!" another sailor exclaimed, clutching a cross.

"Do you not fear death?"

"I'll take my chances, sir."

"To the depths!"

Illuminated by a flash of lightning, the crew moved forward, slitting the sailor's throat and throwing the corpse overboard.

"Cruel blighter!" the man beside me shouted.

"Life is cruel! Why should the afterlife be any different?" the captain spat in his face before turning back to the first sailor. "I offer you a choice. Join my crew, and postpone the judgment. One hundred years before the mast. Will ye serve?"

"I-I will serve."

"Better!" the captain shouted before rounding on me. "You are neither dead nor dying. What is your purpose here?" he

Shivering in the rain, I looked up at his face. "I was a stowaway escaping Lord Cutler Beckett in Port Royal, Captain."

The man kneeling at the end of the row turned quickly. "Rachelle?"

Glancing over, I saw my young friend William Turner. "Will! Yes, it's m—"

I caught myself interrupted by a singing sensation in my cheek—Hammerhead man had backhanded me. "You will speak when spoken to by the captain." he ordered.

I nodded fearfully before continuing to speak to Davy Jones. "The creature plucked me from the riggings, but I managed to escape underwater before I could drown. My survival did not, however, leave me completely unscathed." I spoke respectfully, indicating the cuts and bruises starting to mask my visage.

He peered into my eyes with a piercing blue gaze. "How did ye manage to escape?" he interrogated me.

At this inquiry, my confidence faltered. "I, uh, I don't know. I was pulled underwater by one of the Kraken's tentacles and, as I beheld the mighty sight of the creature, found myself free of its grasp."

"What is your name, child?" the captain spoke softly, but the order was firm and unwavering.

I hesitated, somehow knowing that if I wasn't truthful, he would know. "I am Rachelle Jones, sir." I spoke loud and clear.

The captain's reaction was unmistakable as he seemed to reel into a flashback of his youth. "Calypso…" I heard him mutter.

Puzzled, I noticed no one else had heard him, nor had anyone noticed his short reverie. He raised his voice after a moment and commanded, "Maccus, escort her to my cabin. I will follow when I am finished here."

The man with a hammerhead shark for a head stepped forward. "Aye, Captain."

I was silent for the rest of the way to my destination as the first mate led the way. "Here ye are." Maccus announced gruffly. "Never often we have a woman aboard." he muttered to himself as he returned to the crew.

Alone in the cabin, my eyes flickered about, taking in the room's contents. It was a hollow chamber, bare of the large number of barnacles and corals that littered the rest of the ship. Lit candles lined shelves on the left wall and a large window on the rear wall assumedly provided a decent amount of filtered light during the day. In the near darkness, however, I could just make out a large chest sitting to the left and a desk positioned towards the right wall.

My attention was drawn, however, to the large pipe organ located just under the window on the farthest wall. Slowly, I made my way towards it, almost entranced by its intricately carved beauty. As I drew nearer, I spotted a faded painting in the crevice behind the three layers of keys. Leaning closer, I saw a ship sailing off towards the horizon, surrounding by what looked like angels. A carving of a woman stood just above the keys, appearing to be gazing at the painted ship.

My thoughts started to whirl, wondering if the ship in the painting was the Flying Dutchman and the angels, spirits of the dead. I hadn't a clue who the woman could be. A lost love, perhaps.

Hesitantly, I lifted a hand, my fingers drawn to the keys. I had nearly touched the carving of the woman when a voice rumbled from behind me. "What are you doing', lass?"

Startled, I jumped and spun around. "I apologize, Captain. I was merely fascinated by your organ's beauty." I spluttered. "Do you play?"

"Some." was the sharp reply.

An awkward silence filled the air as he looked me over and examined me from seemingly every angle. I felt nervous under his gaze, although I somehow knew he wasn't looking at me in the same way most other pirates would. "Who are you?" he inquired.

Staring the captain in the eye, I explained my life story in brief detail, merely covering the main points and leaving out my mess of relationships and parentage. Once I finished, Davy Jones stared at me silently as only the sounds of the shouts of crewmen outside and the slap of the waves upon the hull could be heard.

"Assist the crew." he commanded me, turning towards his thoughts. "Answer no questions. Make no trouble. Should anyone harass you for following my orders, send them to the bo'sun."

With a simple nod, I turned away, stepping outside the cabin and allowing the door to shut behind me. I stood there for a moment, puzzled by my first encounter with the fearsome captain of the Flying Dutchman, before a beautifully tragic tune echoed from the chamber. Shaking my head to dispel my confusion, I pivoted on my heel and followed the captain's orders.


End file.
